


An Unexpected Customer

by Living_Dead_Girl



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:10:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Dead_Girl/pseuds/Living_Dead_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A famous face walks into Lilyan's bookshop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is going to be a slow burn. If you like it please let me know so I'll know whether to finish it or not.

 I stretched up as high as I could, on the very tips of my toes, but I still couldn't reach the book. Why did we even decide to have a top shelf up there? Alex knew I was the shortest girl in the Bay Area. I almost called for him to bring me the ladder when a lovely voice said beside me, “can I help you with that?”

I turned quickly to see a very tall and slender man with adorable dark curly hair. His cheekbones were so defined and wonderful. His eyes were the prettiest and most confusing eyes. I could see that they were blue, but the green shirt under his sweater made them look almost like teal. I stood in awe of him. Not being able to speak, I simply nodded. He hardly had to raise his arm to reach the book I was jumping for. Plucking it off the shelf and handing it to me, he looked at me with those gorgeous round eyes. “Do you work here?” he asked, noticing my apron.

“Work here? I own the place.” _Oh God! That sounded so good in my head. I'm so dumb!_ I thought

He smiled. “Wonderful! I was hoping you could help me find something. I've been having a terrible time finding a book to read.”

His deep voice and English accent made my face feel hot. I just wanted to hug him and ask him to read me Shakespeare. “What kind of book were you looking for?” I began making my way to the computer, slow enough to let him look around a bit in case anything caught his eye.

“Well, I've been wanting something... science-fiction. I don't read it very often and I haven't really had the time, but now that seems to be the only genre I crave.”

“There are a lot of sub-genres in science-fiction. Do you like steampunk?” He shook his head. “Time travel?”

“Possibly.”

“Let me scan this, then I'll take you to the science-fiction section.” I quickly entered the barcode of the book in my hand, scanned it to make sure everything was priced right, then set it on the counter. “So what brings you to our little town of Benicia? We don't get very many people from out of town.”

“I was passing through. I saw the sign and thought it would be a quiet little adventure.”

“How do you like it so far?”

“Oh it's lovely. I've never thought that green water could be so pretty.”

I laughed. “You came on a good day. It's normally brown.”

He laughed too. His laugh was almost as amazing as his talking. “It's so different from London. That's where I live.”

“I guessed as much.”

“Because of my accent?” He smiled shyly.

“No.” I poked his chest. “Because of the sexy grandpa sweater.” He looked slightly stunned, a soft blush turning his cheeks pink. I winked at him, making my way over to the far corner of the store. Alex and I had decided to put all of the fantasy and science-fiction in a little alcove because, I know from experience, that people who read them like to sit on the floor and immediately begin reading. The books stood proudly, the newest editions with the covers facing out while the older copies sat with only their spines showing. Two deep leather chairs flanked each end of the shelves with a little table between them for one's coffee or tea. This was my favorite part of my little shop. You could say it was my pride and joy. I loved to just look at all the brightly colored covers with robots and fairies all over them. We had a very good selection. There were a few books from practically every sect of the genre. We carried the classics like _Lord of the Rings_ and _The Time Machine_ , but we also kept a lot of obscure modern tales that were mostly Victorian historical fiction. My favorite at that moment was _The Map of Time_ which was about a young man who meets H.G. Wells so he can go back in time to rescue his beloved from being killed by Jack the Ripper. It was long and full of action. Just how I like them.

I looked over to the man beside me. He looked very impressed at my little display of wonderfulness. He rubbed his hands together like a carpenter warming up before he begins a project. “What would you suggest?”

“Well,” I began. “That all depends on what you like.”

“I like pretty words and adventure.”

“Hm,” I said, crossing my arms. I crouched down and slipped out a book. I read the back to make sure it was the one I was thinking of and handed it to him. “This is your favorite,” I said purposefully quoting a line from _Chocolat_. That movie had been on my mind so much lately. He smiled. Raising a brow he asked, “how are you so sure?”

“It's my job,” I replied. I did have a natural born talent for suggesting amazing books. I hadn't let anyone down yet.

He examined the cover, taking in the stone castle and green lawn preceding it. Shrugging his shoulders and putting a hand in his pocket he let his other arm fall to his side. _Yes!_ I thought. That was a good gesture. It showed he was ready to buy it! “Can I help you find anything else? Any Shakespearian sonnets you haven't read yet?”

“Actually...” He cut himself off. He looked at me with wide eyes. He knew that I knew who he was. He frowned a little before recovering his composure. “This will be fine for today. Thank you.”

I smirked and lead him to the main register. He reached in his pocket for his wallet and brought out a credit card. I looked at it, admiring the name, before swiping it. “Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Hiddleston. It was a pleasure meeting you.” I handed him his card back, the blush returning to his cheeks. “I hope you find that book to be interesting.”

“Oh, I'm sure I will. May I have your name?”

“Lilyan. Most people call me Lily.” I smirked as his mouth grew into a wide grin.

“Such a pretty name. Lilyan.” My heart soared hearing my name come from his lips. I was truly dazzled in every way by this man. He began to turn for the door. I went to collect the books that had fallen to the floor when lazy teenagers don't put them back properly. Suddenly he was behind me. I flipped around quickly, gasping a little. “Can I see you again?”

“You can come back anytime. I'm open nearly every day.”

“No...” He looked down at his shoes. “I mean for lunch or coffee.”

My face turned into a tomato. I tried my best to keep cool. “I'm more of a tea person. There's a nice little café down the street.”

“That would be wonderful. When can I see you?”

“Tomorrow. At one.”

His grin grew wider, if that was possible. He said goodbye and nearly ran out the door. Alex came out from the backroom with his arms full of boxes. I took one from the top and placed it on the counter. “Who was that?” he asked with a mischievous smirk.

“That, my dear sheltered friend, was Tom Hiddleston.” His name came out as a sigh.

“Who?”

“The most amazing man to walk the earth. Now help me put these away.”

He saluted me. “Yes ma'am.”

As I placed the new books on the display table by the front door, I couldn't stop myself from smiling like a complete idiot. I was going to have tea with Tom Hiddleston. Not only did I sell him a book, but I agreed to see him again. I didn't know if I could handle seeing that glorious face a second time. But I would. And I would enjoy it.


	2. Cheese Straws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old southern woman pays the bookstore a visit and Tom shows up a little too early.

I had spent the rest of my day humming “the Bare Necessities”, tiptoeing from one spot to another as if I were a ballerina. Every time the door opened I looked up hastily to see if he would come back. He didn't. That was okay, though, because I would see him the next day. Those beautiful blue eyes haunted my dreams. I saw his hair, curling this way and that, as I showered the next morning. I heard his voice in every song on the radio. Tom Hiddleston consumed my life and we'd only spoken 5 minutes.  
I was walking down the street from where I'd parked, fumbling for the keys to my shop, when a female's voice chirped behind me. “Lilyan! My dear!” I grit my teeth and closed my eyes for a moment to shield myself from the horror of the old woman's face behind me.  
“Mrs. Martin...” I finally mumbled in the nicest tone I could muster. “Good morning.” I tried to smile without looking annoyed.  
“My lovely little Tiger Lily,” she said with her deep southern accent. It wasn't so thick that she drawled on and on, but it was enough to make some words questionable. “I told you many times to call me by my Christian name. Bea (pronounced Bee, short for Beatrice).”  
I made no response. Turning the key in it's lock I held open the door and motioned for Mrs. Martin to go inside. “Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I was wonderin' if you'd gotten any of those new books about gardenin'. I've ben lookin' evrywhere an' I can't seem to find 'em. You know they're written by the same woman that made that series 'bout...” she went on and on about something she heard from someone. Then she went on to talk about how her husband needed an ointment for the rash that was spreading on his leg. I myself was worried since Mr. Martin had been like a grandpa to me. He used to own a restaurant in the center of town that was only place in the whole Bay that you could get really amazing southern food. I'd go there sometimes just to get a couple squares of sweet cornbread.  
Mr. Martin would make a huge pot of gumbo or cook a whole flock of chickens and invite my family along with some others over for a feast. All the kids that new him loved him, but I think I was the only one he loved back. I'd known him since I was a baby and he came to be one of my dearest friends.  
Mrs. Martin was still jabbering at the speed of light, wandering around my counter and picking up random books to look at the back, scowl, then place them on the shelf incorrectly. “Anyway, my lovely girl, do you have 'em?”  
“I'm sorry.” I blinked away the memories of stuffing my face with cheese straws. “Do I have what?”  
She frowned. “The gardenin' books.”  
“Oh! Yes. I apologize. I haven't put them on the shelves yet, but I'll go get them from the back.” I sent her my fake smile and jogged to the back room. I huffed and swore under my breath. I'd never really liked Mrs. Martin, she always found things to say that got under my skin, but she really really loved me. I searched the newest box for a moment, found the set of books she was asking for, made sure there were prices on them, then walked as slowly as I could back out into the main room.  
“Why aren't you jes the tallest glass of watah there is!” A man laughed with a deep voice, each guffaw was very pronounced, sounding like a distinct ehehehe. I nearly dropped the books in my hands seeing Tom standing in my store again. Why the hell is he here! my head screamed. He was talking intently with Mrs. Martin, not noticing my entrance. That gave me a little time to straighten my falling scarf and make sure that I wasn't going to begin hyperventilating. I finally wore a real smile as I walked over to them. “I've found your books, Mrs. Martin.”  
Tom looked up from the stout woman like I'd just jumped out and shouted “boo!”. His eyes bore straight into mine. I couldn't handle such an intense look. I saw the wonder and genuine happiness in those eyes that I'd never seen in my own. I quickly went back to Mrs. Southern Belle. “Would you like to purchase these now, or should I hold them for you?”  
“I'd like 'em today, but I got a couple things to do first. Can I pick 'em up this afternoon?”  
“Of course.”  
She gave her hand to Tom, telling him again how tall and handsome he was. He kissed her wrinkly tanned skin and smiled, bowing. She blushed and scuttled back into the morning fog. “Good morning,” Tom crooned in his English accent. I was very obsessed with noting people's accents. We'd gotten a whole fleet of books on different dialects and I found them to be very interesting, but I digress.  
“What brings you here so early?” I went behind my counter to put a sticky note on the stack of gardening books for Mrs. Martin.  
“I wanted to complement you on your choice yesterday. I'm already nearly finished.”  
I smiled at my computer, inputing numbers and things. “I'm glad you like it so much.”  
“It isn't my favorite though,” he lowered his voice, resting an elbow on the counter.  
“It isn't?” I frowned a little. “Hm. You're the first person to tell me that. I can usually sense someone's favorite book.” I leaned on the cold surface and looked right at him for the first time without feeling like I'd lose my mind. He was wearing the same black sweater but with a different shirt underneath. His nearly black hair looked like it was a little wet as it curled softly on the top of his head. I could see the beginnings of a beard on his chin. “I'm sure I'll get it next time.”  
“You think so?” He smiled, showing perfectly white teeth, his mouth open a little.  
“I know everyone's favorite story,” I said triumphantly.  
He closed his mouth, lips still in a sweet smirk. “Can I get you breakfast?” I looked warily at him, raising an eyebrow.  
“I can't leave the shop. There's no one else to look after it.” His brow furrowed a little, making an expression that took the award for the most adorable face in history. He looked like a tall puppy that's been denied a scratch behind the ear. My mouth pulled to the side, taking my other eyebrow up. So it's a game of faces his wants? I thought. Well, a game of faces he shall have. He took on my challenge and widened his eyes while turning the corners of his mouth down. It took all the will I had to make my face look more stern and not break out into laughter.  
The door swung open and Alex strode in like a knight entering a castle to slay a dragon. His blonde hair had turned blue overnight. He had gelled it up to top off his 50's greaser look with his rolled jeans and collared shirt. I was surprised he hadn't stuck a carton of cigarettes in his sleeve. “Going to a sock hop later?” I asked nearly laughing.  
“Very funny, Lilbo Baggins.” His voice sounded hurt but there was a big stupid grin on his face. He came over and planted a kiss on my head. “Hey, sweet cheeks.”  
“Tom, this is Alex, my good friend. Alex, this is Tom.”  
They were almost the same height but Tom was definitely a few inches taller. Alex surveyed the new man before him. “Have I seen you before?”  
Tom smiled a little and blushed. “Maybe. Have you seen Thor? Or the Avengers--”  
“Suburban Shootout!” he exclaimed. I could hear Tom mutter a quiet “dear, God”. “Yeah! You were that dude with the girlfriend that stole the money and stuff.”  
“Yes, that was me.” His smile wilted a little.  
“Hey, Prince Ali,” I interrupted. “Can you hold down the fort while I go out for a bit?”  
“Um, sure... I guess.” He slipped on an apron to protect his jeans from the dust of all the books.  
I shrugged back on my jacket and grabbed my purse. I said thank you, placing a light kiss on the boy's cheek. I looked up at Tom, his arm held out to me. I took it and we walked out onto the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a little lacking in the action area. Just developing the characters ^.^


	3. Breakfast with Hiddleston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom is slowly realizing what he really wants from his little adventure to the small town in California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is from Tom's point of view. I'm just trying to experiment. If it works out, I think a couple more chapters will be from his perspective.

 The sun filtering in through the window bounced off her hair, looking as though it were set aflame. In the shop and fog it had looked almost black with a halo of red but the sun had come out from behind the clouds and gave me a new beautiful feature to get lost gazing at on this beautiful little creature. She really was breathtaking. Her skin was as pale as a white rose with eyes blue and grey like a stormy ocean. She had curled her hair slightly with a lot of intricate braids around the crown of her head. Her lips stained red and eyes gently lined with black. 

It was a transformation from the girl I had seen the day before. When I met her she'd been wearing no make up at all... or so it looked that way to me. I wondered if she had put make up on just because she knew she'd see me again. That thought made my heart twitch a little, thinking she wanted to look pretty just for me. “You like what you see, cowboy?”

“Hm?” I shook my head slightly, covering my cheeks for they were probably turning red.

“I'm sorry. I stare a lot.” I gave her a small grin hoping she'd accept my embarrassment. 

“It's okay. I like staring, too.” She winked. My face grew even hotter. I hadn't blushed so much as I had in those two days than I did in primary school. This young woman had quite an effect on me. She was being so playful and friendly. I felt like I was constantly being awkward. She had brought up how watching The Hollow Crown had reawakened her love of Shakespeare so I began reciting sonnets for her. She looked astonished at first, probably wondering how I could remember so many words, then her face settled into an expression I'd never seen on a woman before whilst reciting poetry. I couldn't explain it if given all the words in the world. She looked almost like a cat when you pet it just so combined with complete adoration (which I'd seen on many faces much to my dismay). When I finished she just sat back in her seat, her cup of tea by her mouth, smiling at me with those kind eyes. 

“It's impressive,” she said finally. “How you can keep such a large library of poems in your mind.”

“That's what I do. If I find a poem I like I spend a day memorizing it.”

“Why is that?” She leaned onto the table, her lips parted in a sweet smile.

“So that I can share them,” I said as though it were obvious. Her smile grew wider. She finished her cup. I offered to pour another but she declined politely. I waved over our waitress as she passed by to request the check, left the amount with a rather generous tip, and left with Lilyan at my side. “If you're not too busy,” I said sheepishly. “I'd love it if you could show me around your little town.”

She looked up at me. She was such a small little delicate thing compared to me. I felt like I could cary her around the world and never grow weak. I almost wanted to. I wanted to lift her up into my arms and take her anywhere she desired. Looking down at her, she frowned and tugged on the sleeve of my jacket. “I need to get back to the shop. Alex might burn it down. I'm really sorry.”

“That's alright, darling.” Her eyes lit up at the last word. I grinned. 

“But I'm free all weekend!” she added hastily. 

“Wonderful.” I bent down to kiss her cheek and strode back to my car at the end of the block. She was still standing by the cafe as I turned around to wave at her, caressing her own cheek. She waved back and I got into the small black car. I tried not to watch her walk back to her shop. I was finding it hard not to look at her at all.

 

Back in the hotel room I flopped onto the bed, bringing my knees up to my chest. _Why would you give such a tall man such a small car?_ I thought. The image of Lilyan flared into my head. Her hair in the sunlight. Her lips parting to kiss her cup. Her tongue gliding across those lips to catch fallen drops of tea.

I sat up instantly. The thought of her made my gut flip and my heart beat unsteadily. What was she doing to me?! She was the most real person I'd ever met. From only knowing her a day and a half I nearly knew everything about her personality. She liked deep thought but was also a pure ball of energy. She was funny and playful, but solemn and sometimes melancholy. I learned that she loved to read comic books and was a huge nerd for Marvel (especially Captain America from the way she talked about it). She also loved to just read anything and everything. She loved music and dancing. She loved to watch movies. She loved to cook. I couldn't believe how someone can love so many different things and be such a defined being. Normally when a person likes everything it meant they couldn't focus their passion on just one and end up being quite boring. But Lilyan was so energetic and interesting. She bounced up and down or grinned from ear to ear anytime I even touched on a subject she was enthusiastic about. 

We'd spent most of our breakfast talking about how movies affected our lives. I told her about my love for Indiana Jones and Jurassic Park and she just lit up like a Christmas tree. I'd never seen someone feel so passionately for dinosaurs before. “When I was little,” she'd told me. “I remember watching Jurassic Park almost every single day. It wasn't normal for a little girl to love dinosaurs and science, but since when am I normal?” She giggled. “That movie got to me in such a way... I've wanted to be a scientist of some kind ever since then. In high school I took a biotechnology class and that was just it. That class flipped a switch. It'd been a while since I last watched Jurassic Park because I developed other interests, but when we reached learning about modifying DNA I suddenly remembered how amazing it was. I learned that the science behind Jurassic Park had the slightest bit of truth. I wanted to become a geneticist and see if I could do it.”

“What stopped you?” I asked, completely enveloped by her story.

“I got shitty grades. I applied to every school in California that had a biological science department, but none of them accepted me... So I opened the store. I'd wanted to do it for a while but I was so set on going to college.” There were tears forming in her eyes. I had wanted so badly to reach my hand out to her. She sniffled and smirked at me. “I'll get there some day, though.”

I wanted to know everything about her life. I needed to know. I needed to hear about her childhood, what she'd been like in school. I wanted to see pictures of her as a child. I realized, sitting in that small bed, in that small room, in that small town, that what I wanted was that small woman. I wanted Lilyan. I wanted her badly. 

 


End file.
